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looking for a skip?”
    “So?”
    Dad gave me a warning look. “That’s because people who take bail bonds sign away their constitutional rights to the bondsman. They give him the right to track them down and arrest them if they don’t show up in court, and then he signs that right over to me so I can find them for him.”
    “So what?”
    “So your mom hasn’t signed away her rights to me, or anyone I work for. I’m not authorized to go looking for her, which means I have no right to bring her back.”
    “I don’t see why you can’t look for Mom on the side.”
    “You know how strong willed your mother is. You’re just like her. Trying to drag her back here before she’s ready would only cause more trouble for all of us. She’s got a right not to be found.”
    “What about my right to have a mother?” I asked. As soon as I said it I was sorry. I hadn’t meant to turn the conversation back to me.
    But Dad didn’t respond. He just stared at the road slipping away beneath us, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
    *   *   *
    We’d been in the truck for less than twenty minutes when Dad pulled up to a house in a residential neighborhood. He climbed out of the cab, walked up to the house, and pounded his fist on the door.
    I sat close to the window, watching. When Dad went to get Alison, he’d knocked on the door and asked for her. But he said he sometimes had to break in and drag people out. Dad said that was legal for licensed bounty hunters, but it still sounded dangerous to me. I half wanted to see it happen, but only if everything turned out okay in the end.
    Dad waited a second and then banged on the door again. When no one answered, he walked to the side of the house and peered over into the backyard like a cop in a movie.
    There it was. A glimpse of the superhero dad my eight-year-old self wanted. My dad could break into other people’s houses. My dad had handcuffs and chains—and not for weird, kinky reasons either. My dad had the power to drag people to jail.
    I wondered if Batman’s daughter would have felt left out too.
    As Dad came back around the house, he glanced in the window and then waved to someone inside. A moment later the front door swung open, and a woman in a V-neck shirt and tapered jeans stepped out. She was probably the same age as Mom, and she dressed like she was still in high school, just like Mom did. It always made me mad when Mom shopped in the juniors section, even if it did mean I could borrow her clothes.
    I opened the door of the truck so I could hear what Dad was saying.
    “… Ian Burnham,” he said, his deep voice carrying. “You seen him?”
    “He ran off a couple of weeks ago,” the woman said. “Haven’t seen him since.”
    “You know where he might have gone?”
    I hopped out of the cab. This wasn’t turning into a drag-’em-out scenario, so I was safe.
    The woman shook her head again. Dad stepped closer, standing up a little taller. “Are you his guardian?”
    “I was. You with the police?”
    “No, ma’am. I’m a bail enforcement agent. I’m here because Mr. Burnham didn’t show up for his court date. If you’re his guardian, you must be pretty upset at losing that bail money.”
    She crossed her arms in front of her. “Nothing I can do about it now. He stole my car and fifty dollars from my wallet when he left. I shouldn’t have put up the collateral for the bondsman, but I felt so sorry for Ian because of his mom. Now my damn house is on the line.”
    “That’s a tough spot to be in. That’s what I’m here about, though. I’d like to see you keep your collateral. I just need you to help me find Ian.”
    As I walked up behind Dad, the woman looked over Dad’s shoulder at me. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter and a cigarette.
    “I don’t know how much help I can be,” she said.
    “You get your car back yet?”
    “Asshole abandoned it downtown. Got it back last week.”
    Dad didn’t look too happy